


Vituð ér enn, eða hvað?

by alice_pike



Series: Pornathon Entries [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-23
Updated: 2013-08-23
Packaged: 2017-12-24 10:57:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/939164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alice_pike/pseuds/alice_pike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>He wonders if Arthur can feel it, the thrumming under Merlin's skin, the searing heat of his touch like there is fire in his blood.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vituð ér enn, eða hvað?

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 'Magic' challenge at the Pornathon.
> 
> While everything here is meant to be consensual, some elements might be read as having **dub-con** vibes.

Merlin had asked him once, if Arthur could feel it—magic in the air like something alive, something to be wrapped in like a shroud and cradled by. The night had hummed with it, the earth panting beneath their feet like it was feverish with power. 

Arthur had shaken his head, none the wiser about what was engulfing them, suffocating him. 

He wonders if Arthur can feel it now, the same current flowing from his fingertips that infused the air that night. He wonders if Arthur knows that it seeps into his skin like a sponge, leaving trails across his body like ribbons of gold. 

Arthur's skin tastes like magic and Merlin chases it with his tongue, cherishes every inch of Arthur's body he is given, an offering Arthur does not realize he is making. Arthur trembles under his touch, pliant and conforming, and Merlin shapes him into an idol, an effigy, something to be worshiped and revered in a way that Arthur will never understand. Merlin prostrates himself at Arthur's feet, in Arthur's bed, and it feels so much more immense than that night in the clearing ever did. 

He wonders if Arthur can feel it, the thrumming under Merlin's skin, the searing heat of his touch like there is fire in his blood. Arthur's skin erupts in his wake and Merlin drinks it in, the air heavy with so much more than their breath. 

 

Gwen had suspected, unsure of the atmosphere that oppressed her, that spoke of something outside her experience. Merlin had been tentative in turn, whispered into her skin until she calmed, opened to him, let the weight in the air settle around them like it belonged. 

Merlin's fingers had been soft against her skin, his touch fleeting, the heat more so.

He had molded her, too, like clay under his hands; but she shed his touch as easy as breathing, and his magic had rolled off her skin like sweat, like water, to collect unimportantly at her feet. 

 

Morgana had known immediately, even if she didn't _know_ , sensitive to his touch the way no one had been before. Her skin had sung out to him, her blood pulling at him like a magnet; and he had gone, helpless in the face of the fury that simmered just beneath the surface of her very being, that threatened even then to drown them both. 

 

He had never been sure about Lancelot, because Lancelot knew his secret from the very beginning, knew that the gold of his eyes was just a show, a physical manifestation of something so much deeper, so much _more_ ; and if Lancelot's skin broke out in goosebumps at his touch, well, that could've just been _him_.

 

Gwaine had been easier, so much easier to read: The wonder in his eyes, like he wasn't sure if Merlin was real; the hesitation in his touch, like he wasn't sure if he was allowed; the reverence of his kiss, of his lips that dragged across Merlin's skin, like he was wasn't sure if he was worth the opportunity he had been given. 

Merlin had soothed away all of his doubts like balm on an open wound, giving and giving and _giving_ until Gwaine had come undone under his hands, his body resonating with magic and everything that Merlin was. 

 

Merlin had asked Arthur once if he could feel it, and he wants to ask again but he won't: This time, he will make certain that Arthur can. He will make Arthur's blood run sluggish with magic and he will make Arthur's skin shimmer bright with gold: Down to his bones, a glittering, forbidden thing. 

He will give Arthur everything he can, everything he _is_ , as much of himself as Arthur can hold.


End file.
